


Distraction

by Meeps



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-07-08 14:24:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19871101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meeps/pseuds/Meeps
Summary: Peter desperately needed to be distracted, and boy did he get just that.





	Distraction

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written fic in years, and so the first thing I do write? This. Of course.
> 
> This is mostly based on an RP I'm doing right now, which I might turn into a fic and post here. I just really wanted to get the scene down and share it with my friend, and figured... might as well post it here, too!

_Always move forward._ That's what he'd learned from his short trip into the multiverse. This technically counted as moving forward, right?

Peter B. Parker wasn't known for making the best decisions in life, but maybe, just _maybe_ , this wouldn't be on the list of Horrible Regrets.

As Deadpool – no, Wade, _Wade_ was the person under that mask – started to lean in for a kiss, Peter tilted his head slightly and met the other's mouth. He was almost half a year rusty, but it was like riding a bike; you never _really_ forget.

He opened his mouth and the sounds of smacking immediately became more audible and wet. Their breathing picked up and both of them were panting in-between lip-locking. Wade bit his bottom lip, and Peter let out a hitched sound, almost like a hiccup. They ungainly moved towards his mattress and went down on it hard, the springs complaining about being on the floor and the surface dipping underneath them. Clumsy, distracted hands moved to Peter's shirt and started to unbutton the first few, stopping once his chest was partially revealed, and fingers snuck inside to brush against skin. Peter gasped and arched slightly into the sensation.

It had been a long time since he'd been touched like this. Wade's mouth moved to his neck and that was when he lost it; a wavering groan crawled its way out of his throat. “Oh, God,” he murmured, as Wade started to suck on the spot, his palms pressed flat against Peter's chest, digits curling in on themselves, fingernails scraping against his pecs.

“You like that?” Wade asked, his voice deep and husky. Peter had fallen the rest of the way to the mattress somewhere during this, and Wade was firmly on top of him, a wide, toned leg pressed between his own.

The brunet panted, and his dark eyes had started to glaze over. They stayed locked on Wade's revealed face, taking in every pockmark, every scar, the heavyset brow bones and his gorgeous blue eyes. Wade had trusted him enough to show his face, and that meant... that meant a lot to Peter. A lot that he wasn't going to unpack, because that would be emotional, and right now? He wanted _this_.

“Yeah,” he said and tilted his head to the side, showing off just how ready he was to get more.

A deep chuckle came from the larger man. “Ooh, _eager_ ,” he commented, his tone lilting. Then he went back to work, his lips latching onto Peter's jugular and he started to suck, teeth pressing roughly against the skin. Peter's upper body shuddered and his hands tightened around Wade's biceps, his legs instinctively trying to press together, only succeeding in mashing the other's thigh. The pads of Wade's fingers found Peter's nipples and pinched them between his index and thumb, rubbing slowly.

“Aah,” Peter gasped, gripping tight once again. “Oh, _that_ , do that harder,” he urged, and that amused Wade to no end – and it was sexy as hell. This time he bit down, and sucked like it was what he was born to do (and honestly, it probably was, in every sense of the word).

Peter's hands moved to around Wade's shoulders; he pulled the body above him closer, and his left leg moved, pressing upward, and started to rub against the Merc's crotch. Wade growled, and he made a new bite, the other ones already bruising a dark, painful-looking red.

“I'm gonna make you a pretty little necklace,” Wade promised, and continued his trail of bites and hickeys across Peter's neck, sometimes going as low as the collarbones and upper chest, the teeth marks welting up in the wake of his mouth.

At this point, Peter was already almost fully hard, his pants a pleasurably painful constraint. His hands trailed down Wade's back, dragging his nails the whole way, until they rested between both bodies. It was a strain on his right shoulder, but he managed to palm at Wade's crotch, feeling that he was hard, too. He ground his thumb and fingers against the other's manhood, eliciting a heavy moan from him. Peter smirked a little, proud that that sound was his doing.

“Damn baby boy, you know how to treat a man,” Wade said, and he sounded entirely too distracted. Then his weight shifted, and Peter's head rolled back so he could look up at the other. In a single, determined motion, Wade grabbed Peter's hips and pulled them more centered onto the bed, and pried open his legs, which went maybe too willingly, and settled himself between them. Then he started to roll his hips in a circle, grinding his dick against Peter's. A shaky, cut-up breath rushed out of Peter's mouth, and his eyes closed, only just seeing Wade lean back over him and add to the collection of angry marks. He started to move down, passing the brunet's collarbone and biting into Peter's shoulder.

“Fuck,” Peter huffed, a word he rarely used, but his brain wasn't exactly working with a full dictionary right now. “Hurts,” he added, and tears were actually collecting at the corners of his eyes. The fabric of his pants were rubbing so hard against a _very_ sensitive area, and it was overstimulating him to the point of pain.

Wade pulled away and looked down at the man underneath him, and Peter stared back, eyes dilated and glassy. His hair was a little messy from rubbing against the pillow, his shirt was half-off, and he was covered in bruises and teeth marks. He looked debauched and nothing had _really_ happened yet.

Peter reached down and started to undo his pants, and sighed in relief as he was relieved of his personal prison made of cotton. He looked down and saw how red his erection was, glistening from having pre-cum smeared around in his boxers. He made a mental note to change out and wash those later. “Do you have lube on you?” he asked, and that was when it seemed to strike Wade that this was going farther into territory that there was no going back from.

“Yeah, on my belt,” he replied, and automatically started reaching for the pouch that held it. That and condoms. Gotta be prepared for anything, right? “Are you, uh, you sure?” he asked, and his voice was serious. Peter was taken aback by the weight of that question, and he nodded.

“I'm sure,” he confirmed, but Wade didn't seem entirely convinced. Rebound distractions did some incredible things to a person's brain, things that made them seek out activities or people they normally wouldn't under the right mind. And that was probably how the two of them ended up like this... and Peter _did_ just get rejected in his advances less than a week ago.

“Super _duper_ sure?” Wade pressed.

Peter rolled his eyes, and he thought he would appreciate that later, but _right now_ he was horny and his patience was waning. “Wade, I want you to _screw me_ within an _inch of my life_. There, how's that?”

Wade's body shuddered, and the pouch containing the lube clicked open as the latch released.

“You've got quite a mouth on you,” the Merc said breathily, and Peter's lips pulled into a slight smirk.

“And you put quite a mouth on me,” he responded. Wade laughed.

They both wriggled out of their pants, Peter throwing his across the room, and it was soon joined by Wade's leather ones. It turned out it was more than a little annoying to try to get naked while geared up and ready to go in his costume, since there were so many belts and straps to undo. Before he was done, Wade also stripped himself of his top, and unclipped his belt from around his stomach (it had been pushed up during the undressing) and it fell hard against the carpet. Peter briefly wondered what was even in there, but then reminded himself not to think about it.

When Wade squeezed the lube out of the foil packet, it hit Peter that this was really going to happen, and his stomach buzzed with a spike of arousal and nerves. He had never gone all the way with a man before. The nervousness spread to his arms, and they tingled with anticipation. He watched as Wade rubbed the lubricant on himself, making sure to go from the base to the tip.

Then a second packet was torn open and this time it only covered Wade's fingers. He grinned down at Peter, who felt his guts twist around like there were bugs inside of them.

“Ready?” the Merc asked, and Peter nodded, spreading his legs, but he wasn't sure if he should lift his hips or not. He shifted the angle of his legs and tipped his pelvis so that he was easier to access. Wade's wet knuckles were the first thing to come in contact with Peter, and he jumped slightly because the lube was still a little cold. Wade snickered quietly, “Sorry,” he murmured, but he was engrossed in what he was doing.

After rubbing a decent amount on the outside of Peter's puckered hole, he pressed one of his fingers firmly against the ring of muscle. Peter's legs stretched wider, and a subtle tremor went through them. Wade glanced up at the brunet, and was seeming to ask for permission to keep going again. Peter nodded a little on the frantic side.

The finger went in, and Peter's grip on his bedsheets tightened. It was a very _strange_ sensation – it wasn't pain, it was just pressure. He laid his head back on the pillow.

“Hope you're ready for my mouth again,” Wade suddenly said, and he leaned forward and took the tip of Peter's cock past his lips. Peter gasped and his hips jerked a little, the muscles of his abdomen spasming. A second finger went in and that was definitely erring more on the side pain than the first, but it was outweighed by the sensation of Wade's tongue running up along the vein on the underside of his dick. Then, like he was flicking on a light switch, Wade bent his fingers, and pressed up hard.

Peter yelped and his body pop-corned off of the mattress for a second. “Holy shit,” he exclaimed, and Wade pulled away to laugh heartily.

“You've never fucked around with your prostate before?” he asked, honestly surprised. Peter's face was flushed redder as he hesitated before shaking his head. It had always been a thing he'd been curious about but... then other things always happened instead.

The look on Wade's face morphed into something almost predatory. “Oh, you're gonna love this,” he said, his grin audible in his words.

Peter's body jumped again as Wade started mashing his fingers against the bundle of nerves, working his hand forward and back. With every thrust in, the tips of Wade's fingers jammed against Peter's prostate and he couldn't stop himself from trembling or the whining sounds coming from his throat.

Then, a third finger. “This one's gonna probably be uncomfortable,” Wade said casually, before pressed it in.

Peter tensed up, because it was, very much, an uncomfortable amount of stretching of his hole. Instead of continuing to finger-fuck him, Wade settled down and just curled his fingers slowly, almost like he was petting Peter from the inside.

Once the pain started to lessen, Peter's body relaxed, his muscles loosening up and going limp. When he opened his eyes, Wade was staring down at him, and Peter suddenly caught himself feeling shy. His blush darkened and he looked down at himself, wondering what he must look like to an outsider.

“You're so hot,” Wade said, and Peter shifted. He hadn't heard that in... a long time. His eyebrows knit together and he waved his hand at the Merc.

“Quit trying to make me squirm,” he muttered, and Wade pressed harder on his prostate, which made Peter's hips swivel.

“Oh, baby boy, I'm gonna do more than that.”

Peter shook.

Wade removed his hand and smeared the lube that remained around Peter's hole. Then he wiped whatever was left on the bedsheets. He re-situated himself, and hooked his hand under Peter's left thigh, lifting it and pushing it against Peter's stomach. With his other hand, he grabbed hold of his cock and started to guide it to its destination. Peter lifted his hips and arched his back, trying to help make the action easier.

The tip of Wade's dick pressed against Peter's hole and they both made eye contact, their muscles tensing in apprehension.

“Ready?” Wade asked a final time, and Peter, like the hundred times prior, nodded his consent. “Here we go!” the Merc then exclaimed happily, and pushed his hips forward, entering Peter, who gasped and gripped the bedding until his knuckles turned white.

Wade was now bent over him, his body around around Peter almost protectively, one hand in his hair, petting it. “I know,” he whispered into Peter's ear, and the brunet tried to un-scrunch his face. He knew he must look like he stubbed his toe or got a cramp in his leg, but Wade didn't seem to be put off by that. He peppered Peter's face with kisses, and the whole act seemed so... tender. Loving.

Then their lips met and they were kissing each other hard and careless, teeth touching together a few times, tongues both lapping at the other's. “Wade,” Peter choked out in-between, but when he moved his waist slightly to get a better angle his eyebrows pinched together.

Wade took that as a sign to pull his hips back and press in again slowly, shallowly. Peter's mouth was open, and puffs of air came out with every thrust inward. Wade continued to do this a few more times, before he started going harder, almost sheathing himself fully inside of Peter.

“Wade,” Peter said again, but this time it sounded like he was begging. Wade was over him on his elbows, and then he leaned to one side, freeing up one hand to reach down and start stroking Peter's weeping member. Peter cried out and threw both of his arms around Wade's shoulders, gripping the nape of the Merc's neck. “Oh, fuck, _Wade_ ,” he panted, and he started rolling his hips into the movements.

“You're doing so good,” Wade murmured against Peter's ear, and then he bit down on it, pulling at it with his teeth. Peter sucked in a shaky breath. His legs wrapped around Wade's waist, and his thighs were trembling uncontrollably. Wade was a man who _had_ to be good with his hands; dexterity was part of his livelihood... but damn was Peter still surprised at how Wade seemed to know exactly where he should put pressure, and how he should rub his thumb in circles around the slit at the tip of his dick. It felt like it was almost too much, but it stayed firmly on the line between _too much_ and _just enough_.

After a little while, Peter decided that he was feeling adventurous. “Harder,” he urged, and he started to strain the muscles in his ass, tightening himself around Wade, who seemed to really love that.

“Harder?” Wade repeated, before the sound of slapping skin grew louder. Peter felt like he was being spanked, almost. He squirmed and tried to lift his hips up at more of an angle, and he gasped when it meant Wade was swinging his hips in a downward arch more forcefully.

Understanding seemed to wash over Wade's face, and his mouth dropped open in a silent ‘ooh’. He pulled out suddenly, and Peter made quite a noise at that.

“Here, roll over,” Wade said, and Peter followed orders perfectly, turning onto his stomach, his knees bent and keeping his butt in the air, presenting it to Wade perfectly.

“Theeere we go,” Wade singsonged before he leaned forward and pushed back inside of Peter, who groaned long and loud. The Merc bent back over Peter and started rutting his hips down hard against him, and the first thrust hit that bundle of nerves so dead-on that Peter hid his face against his pillow, whining into it. This was _so_ much better. Then, Wade's mouth was on his neck again and he was back to abusing it with his teeth and tongue. Peter arched his neck and surfaced his mouth, allowing the sounds to come out unhindered. And oh, did they. He was pretty sure every single one of his neighbors were going to know _exactly_ what he was doing tonight.

“Fuck, Wade, _fuck_ ,” he gasped, and tried to focus enough to tighten himself up every time Wade pulled out.

“Hold on,” Wade said, after pausing his assault, and then he leaned back and took Peter with him, so they were kneeling on the bed, upright, and Peter tried to brace himself on anything, his fingers just missing the wall his mattress was pressed against. “Here, Petey,” rumbled Wade, before he thrust hard, and Peter swore he saw stars.

The slapping of skin continued, but Peter hardly heard any of it – he was pretty sure he was in heaven right now. Wade was hitting his prostate like he weilded a javelin honed in solely on that, and combined with his intense marking of Peter's neck and shoulders, his hands both holding Peter upward and pinching and rubbing his nipples, and Peter's hands wrapped around his own dick... his eyes started to roll back.

“Oh, fuck I'm gonna,” he started, but his mind was too gone to finish. He felt the tightness build up in his abdomen, and he knew he wasn't going to last much longer. “Wade,” he sobbed, and only then did he notice the tears running down his cheeks. It was too much, it was all too much. “Fuck, _Wade_ ,” he managed out, his voice cracking and sounding absolutely wrecked. The orgasm that hit him was the most intense one he might have ever had, and he cried out, his body lurching as streams of cum shot out from his member and all over his bedsheets and hands.

“Oh, Wade,” he whimpered and then went limp against the man behind him, who continued to thrust into him, nailing his prostate every time, and it caused Peter to shake and another spurt of cum leaked out. He was oversensitive and his nerves on fire, the sensations were starting to really hurt, and he trembled more. Thankfully, Wade came not long after, and he was left giving weak, shallow thrusts, before he slowed and stopped entirely. Peter only now noticed that the other was murmuring praise and his name under his breath against his skin.

Wade pulled out and they both stayed still for several seconds, just trying to remember how to breathe. Finally, they both seemed to come back to their senses enough to start moving themselves down onto the bed. They were both still panting, and Wade started to play with Peter's sweat-slicked hair. He was grinning stupidly. Peter tiredly smiled back at him.

“I think we still have some pizza left,” he said, as if Peter had the energy to sit up and eat right now.

The brunet grumbled. “No, _sleep_.”

The bed was extremely cramped with the two of them cuddled together on it. Peter pressed himself against Wade's chest and Wade made a sound about the other man's stubble scratching at his skin.

“I guess that's fine, too,” Wade said, but it sounded like he had actually really wanted to eat that pizza instead. Peter let out a puff of air through his nose that was supposed to be a laugh.

“I'm not stopping you,” he said, and his voice was already going hoarse. Wade grunted.

“I know,” he said, and didn't move.

That was the best sleep Peter'd had in a year.


End file.
